


All the Right People

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Background and Cameo Characters, Crossover, Flash Fic, Gen, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: Inspired by a quote by Shel Silverstein: "I keep meeting all the right people at all the wrong times."





	All the Right People

**Author's Note:**

> Written in one sitting; feedback is adored.

The historic mansion and site of one of the city's oldest social clubs had been turned into a multi-room event space for the evening fundraiser. Bored and wishing the night was over so he could finish going down the rabbit hole that was his latest research on the Internet, Steve pasted on his bond-sale smile and dutifully wandered the room. His one saving grace was that he wasn't alone; both Clint and Natasha had accompanied him. Steve suspected they were on a mission for SHIELD, but he didn't think protecting him from the idle rich was their sole directive. In the short time since the Chitauri invasion, Steve had learned that Natasha was a woman of many masks, and Clint was nowhere near the ignorant ex-carnie he pretended to be. Both were skilled operatives, and this event was prime territory for art collectors of all kinds. Steve held no illusions about art theft; part of his briefing with SHIELD had been a status update on one of the caches of art he and the Howling Commandos had discovered in the hands of the Nazis. He'd been saddened to learn that two of the pieces had been stolen out of museums.

Tonight's event showcased art from a host of international artists whose work had been commissioned specifically for this event, which was raising funds for charities working with children in war zones and in areas ravaged by natural disasters. None of the artists' names were familiar to Steve, and some of the imagery was quite visceral. He paused for a moment in front of an abstract, trying to decide whether splatters of paint on a canvas qualified as representation of a child running in grass.

"Hideous waste of paint," an accented voice he'd thought he'd never hear again said just loud enough for him to hear.

Turning, he saw a regal woman with black hair, dressed in a striking evening gown, standing next to him. Not far behind her, a brown-haired man in a tailored tux stood, radiating a kind of 'I'm with her' attitude. Steve dismissed him as someone not terribly important, more interested in the woman who'd spoken to him - a woman he hadn't seen since WWII.

"Diana?" he asked, surprised.

Diana's lips curved in a smile. "Who else were you expecting?" she teased lightly.

"Certainly not you, here," he said, and hugged her. Intellectually, he knew she'd be somewhere in the world - goddesses were hard to kill, after all - but somehow he didn't expect her to be in New York. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

Diana's smile widened. "They told me you crashed a plane into the Arctic and died. You were not supposed to do anything stupid."

"I never promised you that," Steve countered. She hadn't aged a day, he thought, looking her over, and was amused that she was chiding him for dying heroically. "I only said I wasn't going to do anything you wouldn't."

Diana pursed her lips and shook her head. "You weren't planning on listening to anything I said, were you?"

Steve shrugged, unrepentant. He was not going to apologize for crashing a plane full of bombs into the Arctic, and he knew from the week he'd spent fighting alongside Diana she'd have done the same. "Probably not, given the circumstances."

“You two know each other?” her companion asked, stepping forward. Steve recognized him as one of the high-rollers Natasha had pointed out to him as someone he shouldn't offend. "Diana, you should've told me," he said, miffed.

"And then what, Ian?" Diana prompted.

Ian looked surprised at her question. "I...I could've arranged for you to come here sooner," he blustered.

"How would you have done that when you wouldn't have known which Steve Rogers in New York I might've meant?" Diana asked placidly. 

Steve hid a grin; he'd always admired the way she spoke, and from the reaction her words garnered, Ian hadn't expected to be on the receiving end.

"Excuse me, Ian, but I'd like to catch up with an old friend. Steve, would you mind terribly if I asked you to have ice cream with me now?"

Steve didn't bother hiding a grin. "And ditch this party? Let me just let my friends know I'm going and then we can go." He was looking forward to catching up with someone who remembered how it had been, in a time that wasn't so long ago for Steve, and seeing if she had any advice to give for navigating this strange new landscape.

**Author's Note:**

> This may or may not get continued. I have to go to bed or else cranky!me gets to go to work, and that never ends well.


End file.
